Cora stared at him. “Do you justcollectrestraining orders?”
“Hey,” he said, holding up his hands. “They both broke up with me. I’m just the emotionally unavailable middleman.”
“Uh-huh,” she muttered, unconvinced, but let it go as they approached Nathaniel’s office.
The hallway was lined with photos of generations of Worthingtons at ribbon cuttings, charity galas, and groundbreaking ceremonies. Every image showcased their wealth and influence, their polished smiles a reminder of who ran this town.
“I bet they practice these poses at home,” she muttered. “Like,Okay, everyone, let’s work on our I’m-better-than-you faces for the next ribbon cutting.”
Jack chuckled. “They probably have a trophy room in the mansion for all the oversized scissors.”
They reached the end of the hall and stood in front of Nathaniel’s door. Cora took a deep breath, knocked, and stepped inside.
His office was exactly what she expected from someone with a superiority complex. There was dark wood, rich leather, and a desk so large it might as well have come with its own zip code. Nathaniel sat behind it, wearing that same self-satisfied expression his ancestors had perfected in all those photos lining the hallway.
“Cora. Jack. Thank you for coming. I trust you found it okay.”
“It’s kind of hard to miss,” she said dryly, raising an eyebrow, “what with the giant sign out front.”
Nathaniel’s smile tightened, the polite mask slipping for a moment to reveal the cold disdain underneath.
“We came here today to talk about the loan on The Salty Spoon,” she began, trying to figure out how to place her hands so she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. “I understand that it might not seem like much from where you’re sitting. But it’s more than a café, it’s a piece of this town’s heart. We need it to stay open.”
Nathaniel’s expression remained neutral. “I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he said smoothly, “and I do understand the history of The Salty Spoon. But, as I’m sure you’re aware, change is inevitable.”
Jack, who had been quiet until now, shifted on his seat. “What kind of change are we talking about?”
Nathaniel’s gaze flicked over to Jack, and for a brief moment, the air between them thickened.
“Progress, Jack. Sometimes that means making tough decisions.”
“What kind of decisions?” Cora pressed.
Nathaniel leaned back in his chair, his eyes settling on Jack with a look that made Cora’s skin crawl.
“Like recognizing when something no longer contributes to the community. Sunrise is evolving. The Salty Spoon doesn’t belong in the future we’re building.”
Jack’s jaw tightened, and tension radiated off him. “And who decides that? You?”
Nathaniel’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “As one of the town’s leading benefactors, yes, that responsibility often falls to me.”
“You keep saying The Spoon doesn’t fit anymore, as if it’s a piece of furniture you’re planning to throw out,” Cora said, her voice rising. “But you helped Lolly. You gave her the loan. Why would you do that if you thought the café was such a waste?”
Nathaniel studied her for a long moment. “Because she asked.”
“That doesn’t make sense. She would’ve gone to the bank. She would have gone to anyone else.”
He leaned forward, tenting his hands on the gleaming desk. “She tried. They turned her down. I didn’t.”
Jack’s voice was a low growl. “You gave her money knowing you’d call in the favor later.”
Nathaniel didn’t deny it. Instead, he shifted his gaze to Cora. “It was a business deal. Maybe she knew the cost, and maybe she didn’t. But she took the deal, nonetheless.” He didn’t blink. Just smiled, all teeth and calculation.
And that’s when Cora knew he wasn’t going to tell her anything else, not unless it served him. She could see Jack had come to the same conclusion, and the conversation was veering toward dangerous territory—mainly Jack smashing Nathaniel’s face into the desk—so she pivoted.
“Nathaniel,” she said, softening her tone, “I recentlyfound out that Lolly and Tobias were once engaged. Isn’t it interesting how our families were connected?”
Nathaniel’s face darkened. “Yes, they were. They would have been married if Lincoln Harlow hadn’t killed him.”
